Dreams of Fantasy
by HawkSapphire
Summary: A novelization with more depth than FF6, and, thankfully, more humor.
1. Narshe's Take On the Empire

Written by Ed Kulp  
All characters, symbols, and Final Fantasy copyright of  
Squaresoft, Inc.  
Prepare for some different characterization.  
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Chapter One:  
Narshe's Take on the Empire  
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One thousand years ago, the War of the Magi reduced the world to barren wastelands, and magic ceased to exist. Iron, gunpowder, and machinery were, in time, rediscovered. Now, technology reigns the  
planet again. There are still those who would enslave the world by  
reviving the dread destructive force known as "magic." Can it be that  
they which wish for such a thing are about to make an apocalyptic and  
senseless mistake...?  
  
Three soldiers trudged up the mountainside. Two were males,  
dressed up in brown uniforms issued by the Empire. The other was a  
girl, with red armor and green hair. Her face was emotionless. The three  
rode in armor suits known as Magitek, which were large robotic attack  
machines. "There's the town..." said Captain Biggs.  
"It's hard to believe that there's an Esper in there," stated Wedge.  
"Do you think it's alive still?" queried Biggs.  
"Probably, judging by Kefka's vehemence in the briefing," assured Wedge.  
Biggs glanced at the girl. "Why is she here? I thought she killed fifty of our soldiers-- and in three minutes!"   
"That slave crown on her head manipulates her into doin' what we tell her to do. There's no prob as long as she has that," said Wedge.  
Biggs looked into the snowy horizon as he adjusted his Imperial helmet. His gloved fingers slid icily across it. "We're going to approach Narshe from the east. Let's head out!"  
  
The snow raged by the three. Their Magitek armors creaked from the frost. Biggs' eyes stung from the icy winds. In the darkness of night, the snowcapped mountains loomed as if sentinels. Narshe finally came into view.  
  
Narshe was a lovely town at night. Were Biggs on vacation here, he'd surely enjoy getting frostbite in such a place. "Let's put the girl on point. There's no sense in US being risked. Forward!" said Wedge.  
The Magitek crashed upon the metal gratings. From the ringing sound coming out of Wedge's unit, he had broken leg hydraulics. All of Narshe could hear them going forth. Smoke poured from chimneys. The "Paradise" Inn passed them quickly upon the right. If Biggs weren't on duty, he'd have stopped for a drink or three. That, and if he wasn't in an Empire warzone. Lords, he wanted to be sloshed right about now.   
A Narshe guard rushed up at the trio, holding back two giant   
Dobermans. "Pompous Magitek-ridin' pigs!! Sic 'em!" the guard cried,  
unleashing the Dobermans and pulling out his own sword.  
The girl alongside Biggs shouted an order at her Magitek unit  
monotonously. It charged forth, opened its chest compartment, and  
sprayed riot gas. Inhaling the gas, the guard and dogs shriveled and fell,  
obviously deceased. "...the hell was that??" wondered Wedge.  
The girl opened her mouth, but said nothing. "Ignore that, Wedge. Let's just...keep going." said Biggs.  
  
Security wasn't quite as tight as expected, but there was another pair of guards lumbering towards them. "I got this one! ...huh?" said Wedge. A guard slashed at Wedge ferociously, carving into him and his Magitek. "You bastard! Aaagh! The Magitek's scratched! Kefka's gonna kill me!!" Wedge channeled his energy into the Magitek cannon, and fired lightning through the same guard. The girl closed her eyes.  
"Is she unconscious?!" asked Biggs.  
"Sir!! Watch out!" interrupted Wedge. Biggs, whose back was  
turned, is gashed by the remaining guard.  
"Arrogant Imperial scum! Don't you turn yer back on me!"  
screamed the guard. The girl opened her eyes as blue beams  
surrounded the guard, and he slowly disappears. Biggs stood silent.  
"Hmph. Fifty guards, indeed," muttered Wedge.  
  
The item shop was a horrid sight--small, jammed in-between its neighboring buildings as if it were made half-assedly, alongside a crappy paintjob. Its windmills almost broke from the wind. The intersection showed how the town looked alike on all sides. Biggs wouldn't have known which way was which if he were spun around and ordered to walk one way--or if he got blitzed. The thought of which just made him want to finish this assignment faster.   
Snow gradually replaced grating, and the caverns drew closer. A large group of guards and their pet mammoths engaged them. Biggs fired a beam of ice energy from his Magitek cannon at one of the guards. The girl fired a large, armor-piercing missile at a mammoth, which vanished promptly. Wedge flowed electricity through the remaining guard. It was then that Biggs was sent sprawling from the mammoth's tusks. "Captain!!" cried Wedge.  
The girl waved her arms and sent a wash of flames at the  
mammoth, engulfing it. "Let's keep going," sighed Biggs.  
"You're wounded!" stated Wedge.  
"Listen to yerself... damn it, don't you worry about me!"  
admonished Biggs. As they stepped through, bridges passed overhead.  
A large mineshaft entrance stood before them.  
"...according to our sources, the frozen Esper was found...in here," stated Wedge.  
  
Inside, candles flickered sparsely. There was barely enough light to see, let alone walk. Biggs stepped on a rat, which squeaked loudly as he did so. "Place's infested," said Biggs blandly.  
"Y'don't say, captain," Wedge said sarcastically.   
  
A large door was before them now. It stood twenty feet tall and  
fifteen feet across. From the look of it, no humans could open the  
massive thing. "Stand back...I got it," said Biggs, stepping backwards and  
then dashing into the door. It crumbled in upon itself from the Magitek's  
force.  
"Wow, Captain...you're sooo strong," Wedge laughed. Biggs was  
silent as he stepped over the debris and into the doorway. A guard,  
stumbling over himself, approached them.  
"We're not giving up the Esper! Whelk, get 'em!!" called the guard.  
Biggs and Wedge exchanged glances, as soon as a pair of eyes  
glinted in the quasi-darkness. The eyes were followed by a long, slimy  
pink head and a shell adorned with spikes the size of Magitek. This  
'Whelk' was a gigantic...snail. "Hold it! Remember our briefing?" asked  
Biggs.  
"What about it?!" demanded Wedge.  
"This thing stores thunder in its shell...so whatever you do, only attack the head!!" stated Biggs.  
"How do you know that this is what they were talking about?!"  
asked Wedge.  
Biggs stared at him a moment. "I don't exactly see any other  
gargantuan snails around here. Do you? Now, attack!" Biggs said,  
smugly.  
Wedge cursed at him under the noise of his Fire cannon. The eyes seemed to scorch and pop a little. Biggs followed suit, and the eyes  
scorched moreso. Their girl companion opened her Magitek's chest  
cannon and fired a missile at the head. "Gruuu..." grumbled Whelk as the  
cave rumbled along with him. It withdrew into its shell, but Wedge was  
already firing at it again.  
"Stooppp!!" Biggs screamed at Wedge.   
"CRAP!" Wedge cursed as the flames licked the pearled shell. The shell glowed, and a pillar of thunder shocked through Wedge's Magitek. "Ahhhh?!" he inclined his voice as the Magitek began to overheat.   
"It's gonna blow! JUMP!!" Biggs called. Lightning flickered through and around the Magitek armor. Wedge, eyes wide in horror, crouched to leap off.  
As he was springing up, the armor imploded upon itself, and  
Wedge was sent flying from the momentum. He lay there, bloody. Biggs  
roared a battle cry, and whirled on Whelk, who was just coming out of  
his shell. "DAMN YOU!!!!" He unloaded his Magitek energy on the head,  
firing fire and ice beams from each cannon. The girl, undaunted by  
Wedge's condition, sent another missile to collide with Whelk's soft head. Whelk screamed at them, and its head collapsed on the floor. Biggs controlled his Magitek over to where Wedge lay. "Are ya...Wedge, are you dead?!"   
No response came from the soldier. "WEDGE!!" Biggs cried,  
jumping from his Magitek and checking on him.   
Wedge coughed blood. He was still alive, but in unstable condition. "I'm...alright," coughed Wedge.  
"Don't lie! You're near enough dead!" Biggs stated.  
"Captain? Why're you so concerned?" Wedge asked.  
Biggs coughed, and said smoothly, "It won't look good for my  
record if I let my subordinate die." Biggs didn't want to tell Wedge that  
he saw him as a friend--that was a weakness as an Imperial soldier.  
"If you say so, Captain," Wedge said doubtfully. Biggs ignored him, and dragged him up to his own Magitek armor.   
"Let's go, " Biggs said simply. He scooped up a potion, and moved into the next cavern.  
  
The area was large, roomy, and airy. It smelled of frost...if frost  
really even had a smell. Maybe it was just that Biggs was getting used to  
the cold. A small set of stairs led up to a large ice crystal. "That must be  
it. The frozen Esper..." said Biggs. The crystal hums, and glints blue.  
The girl alongside him looked at the crystal and the Esper inside, with a lamentatious look upon her face. For once, she showed some emotion. "What's up? Why're you...? Biggs--the slave crown isn't  
working?!" said Wedge, mixedly.  
Biggs was silent, as the girl approached the Esper. The Esper  
began to glow blue. "Where's the light coming from?! ...Uwaaaahh!!"  
Wedge shrieked, and vanished from Biggs' Magitek cockpit.  
Biggs' eyes widened. "Hey!? Wedge? WEDGE!?! What's going on...?!" he cried.   
Biggs' last sight was the azure light pouring from both the girl and the Esper, as her Magitek exploded and Biggs, too, died a death fit only for the "Imperial scum" that he was...  
  
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Her eyes opened, fluttering and fleetingly. A high ceiling towered over her. "Where...am I? My head hurts..." the girl asked. She turned her head to observe the room. It was rather blue, with a red carpet contrasting it vividly. She was lying in a bed, and she had several scars on her forearms. They sill burned. The room, in itself, was also warm.   
An elderly man stood before her now. He had fair hair which  
turned gray at the sides of his head, and stood about five and a half feet  
tall--the same as her. Her eyes focused upon him, as he pursed his lips to  
speak. "Take it easy, there. You're still injured. Ahh, well, you're in  
Narshe now. I figured that you wouldn't remember getting here," said  
the man.   
The girl's brow furrowed in thought, but it hurt her so to do it.  
"Why wouldn't I remember anything?" she asked of him.  
"Well, you don't remember anything, do you?" he asked--well,  
hypothetically, at least. He didn't expect any answer. After observing  
her puzzlement, he held up a darkened silver crown. "This, my dear, is a  
slave crown. The Empire used it to manipulate your actions. They're  
getting a bit rare nowadays--I'm surprised that they used one on one so  
precious to them. They're dangerous, after all," he rambled.  
"...why don't I remember anything?" she asked him.  
"I was just getting to that, my dear. They render memory useless while a person wears it. You'll recall everything within a year or so," he said to her, smiling warmly.  
In the reflection of the slave crown, she saw herself. Not more  
than eighteen, with light green hair. She wore red and white armor, and  
she looked clueless. "...my name is Terra," the girl said, still looking at  
her reflection.  
The man jumped with a start. "I've never heard of anyone  
recovering that fast..." said he, with surprise.  
The front door came under much scratching. Voices could be  
heard behind it. Dogs' barks came from the door. "Give us the girl and  
the Empire's Magitek armor! She is an officer! Return her!" shouted a  
voice.  
"What's this Empire? What's a Magitek? And who are you?" Terra asked.  
"Th-there's no time to explain all of that! All in due time, Terra!  
Now, quickly! Out the back door; I'll hold them off!" he said hurriedly to  
her, motioning to the door just behind the bed.  
Without wasting any time, she made a break for the door and  
swung it wide open. She could hear the front door being broken down by  
enraged Imperials. Closing the door behind her, she dashed across a  
long bridge outside. The wind was cold against her skin, and the night  
was very blustery, especially up as high as she was. Guards gathered  
below her. They shouted something unintelligible to each other, and  
made off towards the mountains to the north. She enters the mineshafts, guided only by barely-alit lanterns.  
  
The place smelled of old lamp oil. Terra's eyes hurt from the  
darkness, as she strained to see. A glint approached her fast. "What's  
that?" she asked to herself, looking at it fast approaching. Eyes widening  
as it did not cease, she ducked. A wrench struck the wall beside her. She  
whirled back to see a guard dressed as a mechanic, opening his tool box  
for another wrench. Behind him was a gaseous blue vapor.  
"Where do you think you're going?" said the guard, dashing at her with his wrench. The vaporite hissed and spread over her. She found herself slowed down signifcantly, as well as being struck repeatedly by the guard. She unsheathed her knife and ran him through. As the guard slumped to the ground, she ignited the vaporite with Fire. It hissed wildly as it faded.   
Terra rested a while, letting her burns cool a little. She was  
startled, however, by more voices. "We got her!" one said.  
Springing up, she backed away from the new plethora of guards. The wall was nearing her back as they closed in on her. Their toothy grins were dark under their umberish hats. Terra's left foot found no restistance suddenly--nor did her right foot. She was falling fast through the caves. The guards rushed faster still towards her, but did not follow her.   
She collided with a softer turf below. She got up for a moment, but her vision blurred. She collapsed to the floor, and her consciousness  
vanished.  
  
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The door swung open. The young fellow had just left the mines to the north, and smiled at the warmth of the home. Adjusting his  
headband, he strode into the den. His elderly friend stood there, staring  
off into the fireplace.  
"Crap! He went and had a heart attack on me! Waaaake up, old  
man!" the young man cried, shaking him adamantly.  
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Locke!?" demanded the old man.  
Locke grinned as the man recomposed himself. "Just checkin' up on ya, Arvis," he said with flair.  
Arvis looked at Locke sheepishly. "It took you long enough to get here, might I say. How's your thievery going?" he asked Locke.  
Locke turned red with fury. "I PREFER the term 'Treasure  
Hunter'!"   
"What semantic nonsense," Arvis replied.  
"There's a HUGE difference, old timer!" Locke shouted.  
Arvis shook his head. "Anyway, I called you here for a reason. I want you to meet up with...a girl," he said hesitantly.  
Locke's ears perked up as if he were an elf. "A girl?! Is she hot?" he said, grinning.  
Arvis looked daggers at him. "Just because you haven't scored  
since your last girlfriend doesn't mean that you need to act like a horny  
teenager every breathing moment!" he admonished.  
Locke's eyes widened. "Quiiiet! A lady might hear you!" he said, looking around wildly.  
Arvis shook his head again. "You're familiar with the female  
Imperial soldier, correct? The Magitek Knight?"  
Locke turned red again. "Her?!? Come on! Give me something to work with, Arvis!!"   
Arvis was the one to turn red with fury this time. "Now listen  
here! Imperials are currently raiding this city! I implore you, help her!  
I'll talk to the elder and request membership with that underground  
resistance movement, the Returners. Narshe can't survive this  
neutrality. Your job--" Arvis eyeballed Locke, pausing, "--is to help the  
Imperial girl out. She was drafted unwillingly, shall we say."  
Locke waved away Arvis' threats. "Yeah, yeah...save the girl and romance later? What a crock..."  
Arvis looked unbothered by the youth's constant idiocy. "Whether you like it or not, you're going to help her. I suggest doing it whether you like it," Arvis said in a no-nonsense, ominous way. His eyes shifted towards the large broadsword mounted on his wall.  
Locke smiled uneasily. "Hey-hey-hey now! There's no reason to get all aggressive! (especially not with ol' Excalibur over there!)" said Locke, with the latter part under his breath. "I'll do it."  
Arvis smiled warmly, a cool comparison to how he had been ever since Locke had first opened his mouth. "Good. You'll find her in the Mines. After you find her, head first to Figaro Castle and talk with King Edgar. He'll help us Narshians out," said Arvis in his traditional  
gentlemanly tone.  
"Got it. Seeya later, pops!" Locke said impishly, dashing back out the door, returning to the mines.  
Arvis stood stock-still, and then shook his head. "I swear, that boy does it just to irk me..."  
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Locke found a large hole in the ground, not far from the walls. It was barely visible in the dark. Looking down, he noticed someone. Locke heard voices off to his right, where crude steps were fashioned out of stone. Could the Empire have found her already? Dismissing the matter, he knelt to pound a stake into the ground. Satisfied with the sturdiness, he rummaged through his pack to retrieve a length of rope. Still bent, he tied it around the stake snugly. Geronimo! thought Locke.   
He shimmied down, trying not to burn his hands. It was not a long way--a person could probably jump down and land cattishly. If they  
didn't quite nail the jump, however, it would be lights out for them  
swiftly.   
The cave was well-lit (for a cave), and the lanterns seemed to have fresh fuel in them. Many stalagmites formed a short distance ahead, but considering that Locke was hardly the one to care for mine architecture (but then again, who is?), he couldn't help but notice them. Before him was a girl, face-down in the dirt. Oddly enough, she had emerald hair. Locke pondered this a moment. "Green? Must be one of those 'newfangled dyes' that Arvis keeps talkin' about," he brushed the matter off, and hauled the girl up to a sitting position. She was very unconscious (if such a thing can be measured in degrees, she was well off to be measured), and dirt caked her arms and face, where she had apparently fallen. Locke grinned to himself, pretending to talk to her. "You're quite the dirty one, aren't ya?" as he laughingly smudged away some grime.  
Footsteps loomed in the air. Locke let go of the green-haired lass, who sat still. He rose to his feet, looking past the stalagmites. A  
cavalcade of soldiers were descending the stairs. "One...two-three...four-five-six...seven?! Dammit! How the hell do I take on all of these bozos?!!" he yelled.  
"There they are!!" a footsoldier exclaimed.  
Locke began to sweat great beads. Looking around, he found no escape. As the Imperials approached, an unusual sound came from  
behind him. He turned to hear it, once again.  
Kupo!  
Small, three-foot-tall, batwinged cream puff creatures emerged from a small offshoot chasm. A singular red ball floated above each head, as if impaired antennae. Kupo!   
"Moogles?" Locke said, with a nigh-inquisitive tone in his voice.   
They all nod, and cry out again. Kupo! Kupo! Kupo!  
"Are you...saying you'll help me out with these punks?" Locke  
looked at each one's eyes, each seeming polished to perfection. One,  
larger than the others, shook his head.  
"Whaaaaaat!?" Locke exclaimed, restraining himself from  
strangling the death-wishing moogle.  
The moogle, playfully, laughed at him, then made a gesture with its stubby paw. It then nodded, and readied its lance. The others brandished their own armaments. Locke looked abashed, but drew his own dirk nevertheless. "Now, you stay right here, sweetie," Locke murmured at the girl, winking at her. Unsurprisingly, she didn't make any nasty retorts, as perfect strangers ofttimes do.  
  
They went to work fast and gruesomely. The largest moogle ran soldiers through without mercy. A moogle fighting beside Locke bashed in a guard's head with its club. Locke felt insignificant to these  
bloodthirsty, adorable beings.  
An Imperial rushed at Locke, shortsword drawn readily. He  
swiped at Locke in a cleave. Laughing and taunting at him, Locke dodged this easily. The soldier slashed widely at Locke, who leaped over the blade's path and garroted the footsoldier in mid-jump.   
The captain unleashed his dogs (where the hell do they find these things?) upon the moogle war party. A ferocious doberman pounced on a moogle and began to devour it. "K-U-P-O--!!!" the largest moogle screamed, and ran over to the beast. Leaving its prey half-eaten, he turned to the new adversary, baring its bloody fangs. The moogle  
smacked the dog in the skull with the butt of his pike, which made it  
flinch. The moogle jammed the pike into the ground, and proceeded  
to...dance. The thing dances at a time like this? thought Locke, after  
gutting the last private. What happened next, Locke had even less of an  
idea. The moogle stopped moving, and the dog did, as well. It proceeded  
to sink into the ground. A large blue portal opened where dirt once was,  
and the dog fell into it, howling. As it closed, the moogle hefted its spear  
again and chased down another dog.  
Locke whirled suddenly on the surprised captain and slashed at him with an icepick-style dirk cleave. The captain gashed Locke's  
stomach, who yelped in pain. The captain then impaled a moogle, who  
was readying his serrated boomerang for him. The largest moogle fed  
another doberman his spear.   
Another moogle leaped from above them and clubbed the captain over the helmet. The noise was atrocious--both helm and skull could be heard crunching. Each moogle was now wearing a pink coat, and one of them was fashioning itself a necklace for itself out of the captain's entrails. The largest moogle scooped up his half-eaten comrade, and, in his other hand, lifted his impaled brethren. He scuttled off, back into the caverns.  
As they departed, Locke called to them, "Thank you, moo--gaaah.." he flinched, his wound not exactly repairing itself. Drinking a tonic, he thought he heard another, eerie voice come from the moogles' cavern.   
"Dammit, kupo!!" it reverberated.  
Locke, after raising an eyebrow, picked up the jadehaired girl, and proceeded to climb up the stairs which the guards had once followed to their dooms.  
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Vision returned to her slowly. At first, she could only see the  
orange lights of the hardly-roaring lanterns. Then, she noticed the  
outline of the cave. Finally, she realized a fellow who had donned a  
headband over his silver hair staring at her with an odd look, licking his  
lips. He seemed to suddenly realize she was awake, and jumped back,  
startled. But Terra, too, was alarmed. "Aiiieeee!! A cannibal!!" she cried,  
tumbling backwards.  
The young man smiled uneasily. "Don't worry, miss. I won't hurt you...(but eating you might not be so bad)," he said, the last part under his breath again.  
"Come again?" Terra asked, daunted.  
Locke smirked. "Never you mind. My name's Locke Cole. May I ask your name?" he asked Arvishly.  
"Me...? I'm...Terra," she said slowly.  
"Only Terra? No last name?" he said to her, in an I'm-Not-Really-Paying-Attention type of way.   
"Terra Bradford....um...where are we?" Terra revised herself.  
"The Narshe Mines. Looks like you took quite a spill. You had a  
head wound after I---uh, after that fight, so I tore off some of my sleeve to  
fix it," Locke stated, hiding the fact that he dropped her, and trying to  
make a good impression.  
She noticed the cloth tied around her forehead. It probably didn't look much unlike Locke's bandana. She stood up and dusted herself off. "How did you find me?" she asked Locke.  
"Oh, that? Well, my friend asked me to find you, just as I was in town. We must be destined to be together!" he said, grinning.  
Terra frowned. It had taken her a while, but she finally caught  
onto Locke's passes. She changed the subject. "How do we get out of  
here?"   
Locke smiled, now. Turning, he dragged a rock down the wall,  
where it locked in place. The cave behind him opened to the outside  
world. It was still night, but it had stopped snowing. "Voila! Onward to  
Figaro, Terra dearest!"   
As they left the cavern, they appeared at the entrance to Narshe. The snow crunched under their boots, and made her toes cold. Speeding up, Locke still led past a building. It was a long, abnormal building, with a thick, sturdy wooden door. Eyes stared out of the windows, mouthing curses at the two. "It's time to leave, I guess," Locke said simply, watching the people watch him.  
"Where are we going to?" Terra asked.  
"We're headed to Figaro Castle. I need to do something there first, before we go to the Returners' hideout." returned Locke.  
"Returners?" asked Terra.  
"Yep. An Anit-Imperial group. I'm a loyal member! Heheh," he  
smiled. Terra ignored him, and stepped out into where the road met the  
snow.  
  
Mountains surrounded Narshe on virtually all sides. Only to the south was a valley. A chill wind blew from the north peaks, and bore  
down on their backs. The sky was purple, and was fast changing color. It  
was dawn now.  
"So, how did the Empire draft you, Terra?" asked Locke, after a mile of silence.  
Terra pondered the question a moment. "I'm not sure. I was  
cornered by this strangely dressed man one moment, and....the next  
thing I remember, I was lying in bed in a man's house. He had kind  
of...grayish brown hair, and a weird accent. All of that, and my name...are all that I remember."  
Locke stopped in his tracks. "You have amnesia?!"  
Terra nodded slowly. "I suppose so," she conceded.  
Locke shook his head. "Imperial bastards! Oh--wait. Gray-brown hair and a weird accent? A middle-aged fella?" Locke persisted.   
Terra nodded. "That's Arvis. He can be a bit temperamental, but I guess it's just my charming personality, but he gets pissed when I'm around," Locke laughed.  
Locke, however, was surprised when Terra laughed. "You're not really all that charming!" she laughed.  
"Whaat? Come on..." Locke frowned, and stepped in front of her. Locke made a sad puppy-dog-esque look at her.  
Terra smiled, and resumed walking.  
  
Before too long, the snow became dirt. After another mile, the dirt became grass. Within three hours of travel, they were wading through a desert. The sun, now, was visible. It set the sky aflame and warmed the air. It would be perfectly comfortable were it not for the sand.  
There, about a thousand paces forward, was a castle. The turrets and base seemed to be both black and light brown--likely form  
sandstorms. Terra couldn't recall ever seeing such a thing in her life. "Is  
that Figaro Castle?" she asked.  
Locke fought off the urge to say, 'Well, I don't see any other castles around here, toots,' but chose his words better. "Yeah. Not too far off now--not for a castle. Nice place, right?" said Locke, high-stepping  
through sand.  
Terra knew that it was not a large castle by castle standards, but she couldn't help but marvel at it. After all, she'd only seen such a thing in picture books before. 


	2. Between Kings and Drag Queens

Written by Ed Kulp  
All characters, symbols, and Final Fantasy copyright of  
Squaresoft, Inc.  
Prepare for some different characterization.  
  
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Chapter Two: Between Kings and Drag Queens  
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The sandblasted castle was larger than she had thought. Looking up at the turrets, she got dizzy. Locke, however, was already a dozen paces ahead of her, surrounded by gigantic yellow birds: chocobos. Each of the two chocobos were mounted by a man, undoubtedly guards. Locke was engaged in a conversation with them.   
"Could you open up, Joe? I'm trying to show my lady friend here a good 'getaway place'," Locke murmured to the chocobo knight.  
Joe (as Locke called him), smiled knowingly as he looked Terra over. Turning to the other guard, he nodded. "Raise the portcullis!!" cried the other chocobo guard. The grand gate opened slowly, and finally locked into place. "Please, go to King Edgar, Sir Locke...and..." the knight motioned to Terra.  
Locke took this opportunity to turn to his jade-tressed travel  
partner and ogle her. "Joe, I would like you to meet Mistress Terra.  
Terra, this is Joe."  
Joe dismounted his chocobo, striding up to Terra. He took her  
hand and kissed it lightly. "Pleased to meet you," murmured Joe.  
Locke cleared his throat. "I'm sure Terra's not into chocobo jockeys, Joe," Locke chuckled. Terra tried not to nod.   
"Chocobo jockey?! I'm a chocobo KNIGHT, dammit!" Joe cried.  
Locke shook his head. "C'mon...Hey, Joe, catch ya later."   
Joe nodded to him, still looking a bit upset. Locke led Terra  
through the large portal.  
  
Turrets reached high all around the castle's limits. Terra's heels clicked upon the sand-covered stone flooring. Fans were all aflurry, keeping the temperature bearable, even in these scorching conditions. Despite the cooling, she still labored to brush away beadlets of sweat. A pair of soldiers blocked off two doors, each to opposite sides of the other. Looking once again, she noticed the whole castle so far to be perfectly symmetrical. The sound of the padded thuds on the crimson carpet was a rhythmic walking partner to Locke's slightly heavier footsteps.  
The path down the center of the castle was surely to lead to the throne room. A cliché in all castlemaking is that of placing the royal housing where any half-witted invader could find it.   
As the wide door to the reception room opened, Terra noted  
something else: there were six suits of armor, with three evenly placed  
upon each side of the carpet. A tapestry was slung over both the east and west walls, and two doors again battled for the castle's center. Locke did not halt for Terra's train of thought, however, and continued to step  
lightly to the throne room.  
A man with long blond hair, tied back with a blue ribbon, sat  
patiently in one of two thrones. His calm green eyes studied the two, and  
then moved to his posted guards. As they nodded, the jet-black armor  
clad fellow glanced again at the two visitors.  
Locke stopped before the young king, and began to address him. "Highness, I have arrived from Narshe as per instructed." Locke had never sounded so authoritive, what with his somewhat lecherous  
nature.  
The king stirred. "This lass is the one I was told of?" his voice was slightly accented. Terra shifted her weight to her left foot. The king  
sprung from his throne and walked towards them slowly, with his hands  
clasped behind his back. Terra stood stock-still as he looked her up and  
down.   
"What are you doing?" she asked him.  
The young ruler cleared his throat, and then looked into her eyes. "My apologies...(I haven't even introduced myself yet!) It is rather rude of me to turn my back upon a lady! I am Edgar Roni Figaro, the king of Figaro. It is my pleasure to meet you, Miss..." he trailed off, nodding in accompaniment with his fine blonde eyebrows wagging, as if to coerce her out of her name.  
Terra rolled her eyes at his gesture. "...It's Terra."  
"Surprised I know the king?" Locke chimed in.   
Terra sighed. "Yes, Locke. Of course, Locke," the jade-haired  
woman said, already tired of his antics.  
Locke measured her reply for sarcasm, and evidently came up with positive results. He bit his lip. "Well, ah...I hate to say this, but I  
gotta scram. I'll see ya later, my love!" he said, with a flair of confidence  
sparking towards his last words. Terra shook her head, and watched as  
the silver-haired teen opened the towering twin doors with great labor.  
"You're an Imperial?" the accent voice brought her attention back to Edgar. "Well, that won't be a problem. You see, Figaro and the Empire are allied. Please, relax here. You've nothing to fear from either Locke or I," with this, King Edgar paused. "Well, maybe Locke."  
Terra, ignoring the obvious addition that Edgar had just made,  
looked at him with puzzlement. "Why are you helping me?"  
He unattached his right arm from his left, which had until now remained planted behind his back, and waved it in the air for emphasis. "It is my nature to help those needing aid. Your...abilities would not hurt, however. If you will allow my leave, milady, I will have a guard escort you around the premises."  
"That's not necessary. Exploration is half of the fun, after all,"  
Terra returned.  
Edgar nodded. "An adventurous lass. Not many of that kind around nowadays," he stated with a tone of approval. His hands once again joined behind his back as he turned, his ponytail traveled from his right to his left shoulder plate in a flurry, and his shoes thumped upon the crimson carpet lain over the marble floor as he departed.  
Terra realized that the guards, also, were absent. Instead of  
standing stupidly in the throne room, she decided to explore as she said  
she would. Strolling through the doors, she arrived outside again.  
Opening the door to the west wing, she was nearly run over by a running child. "Sor~ry!" the kid called back at her as if he had made a living out of his rendition of tag.  
She approached an ornate teak table, she pulled out a matching chair, and placed herself into it. As she composed herself, she found an elderly woman looking at her from across the table. "You seem new here, kiddo. Well, since you came to sit with me, I'll tell you about  
Edgar's twin brother," the matronly figure spoke with a grating voice  
akin to an axe screaming as it was sharpened for a beheading (although  
that was vastly out-of-date during these times).  
"Actually, I just came to sit--" Terra started, but was cut off by the old woman.  
"Ahh, he was such a nice boy. Much nicer than Edgar..." she  
started. Terra cut her off, this time.  
"Nicer than Edgar? That's a bit hard to believe," Terra retorted.  
The elderly lady looked daggers at her. "He's only trying to get  
into your pants. Watch him, because he will try, even if it is seemingly  
nonexistant."  
Terra, silent, allowed the matron to continue. "His name was Sabin, and was Edgar's younger brother. He looked so much like the late king! When King Figaro passed away, the two brothers flipped a coin to decide who would obtain the throne. Sabin ultimately traded his lineage for his freedom."  
Terra leaned forward in her seat, and placed her elbows upon the table. "How long ago was that?" she inquired.  
The matron's eyes were downcast for a moment, and then  
returned to Terra. "Nine years have passed since then. He must be such  
a fine lad now," she finished.  
Terra, after thanking her for the unasked-for yet vaguely helpful story, pushed in her chair and walked away. She felt cheated somehow; she had never particularly cared for stories.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Edgar lounged regally in his throne. He watched as the doors  
swung open and a guard charged at him. "King Edgar!! Kefka is here!" he called, his voice no faster than he.   
The king stood up gracefully, and took a step towards the doors. "Hmph. Bloody clown..." he said, stepping through the opened portals.  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
His wavy brown hair was tied back with a red ribbon. His mantle, draped immaculately on his shoulders, was vibrant and colorful,  
resembling a horrible carnival accident. His face was pale white, and his  
mascara seemed to bleed black under his right eye. "Damn that Gestahl!  
Him and his fucking orders! Why the hell does Edgar stick his castle in  
the middle of nowhere?! Hmm...? THERE'S SAND ON MY BOOTS! EEEK!"  
Kefka tiraded.  
The two soldiers flanking him almost fell over. Recomposing, they bent and scrubbed Kefka's black shoes clean, then stood at attention. Kefka laughed dementedly, and walked up the steps to the castle. The chocobo knight Joe intercepted him. "Sir Kefka? What are you doing here?" he asked.  
"Get the FUCK out of my way!! I'm pissed off, so DON'T CROSS ME!!" Kefka shrieked as he forced his way past, with the two personal guards in tow.  
Joe turned to his friend. "Little Miss Kefka's havin' a hissy fit,  
Don..." he snickered.  
Don turned to him. "Heheheh...mmrrow..."  
  
Edgar walked swiftly, and stopped as Kefka stood before him.  
"What brings the Great Kefka, servant of Gestahl, to my lowly castle?"  
he asked with poise.  
"I'm here for the Magitek knight! The girl! I know she's here,  
Edgar! Show her!!" demanded Kefka, who searched frantically for a  
collar to grab ahold of on Edgar, but could not grasp the armor.   
"Nay, there is no 'Magitek girl' here. I would have known, were any new ladies brought here. They may be as numerous as grains of sand in the desert here, but a king of the desert knows his people, sand or no," Edgar said fluently.  
Edgar's articulance seemed only to ruffle Kefka's feathers more (which, conveniently enough, Kefka had left at his barracks). "Hmm. Curious. Well, let's hope you aren't LYING to me now."  
Kefka cantered away as Locke approached from hiding. "I  
question that guy's sexuality sometimes," he remarked.  
Edgar sighed. "I question that all of the time. Where's Terra?"  
Terra peeked out from behind the slightly taller Locke. "I'm here," she said meekly.  
Edgar took Locke aside. "Take her to a room where it's safe. I must go and speak with the chancellor. If you'll excuse me..." he said, and walked through the doors to the waiting room.  
Locke motioned for Terra to follow, and led her through the east wing. Staircases ran through it, and it consisted solely of a bed and table, which held a lantern. "Is it true that you're a thief?" Terra asked,  
breaking the silence.  
"That's TREASURE HUNTER! Damn that Edgar...!" Locke cried,  
balling up his fists. Terra said nothing, and looked at him calmly. "Edgar  
pretends to support the Empire. Actually, he's with the Returners, an  
anti-Imperial crew I'm with. Arvis back in Narshe is one of us," he added.  
"I'm an Imperial soldier, though!" Terra exclaimed.  
"Terra...they were using you! Things are different now!" Locke  
returned, and looked away as Terra said nothing. "I can't tell you what to  
do. You'll find your own path soon, so don't worry," he finished, and  
walked downstairs.  
She was alone in the room, and stared at the dead lantern. "I could have realized that...but, how do I know the right path to choose?"  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
An odd crackling noise awoke Edgar. Kicking off his sheets, he rushed out the door to find Figaro castle becoming a blazing effigy.  
"What's going on!?" he asked himself, and then noticed Kefka, standing  
beside the royal bedroom door. Milky sweatdrops poured from his face,  
accompanied by black teardrops from his makeup.  
"Bring the girl to me," Kefka said simply.  
Edgar opened his eyes wide in anger. "I don't know where such a girl is!" he cried.  
"Well...this is a fitting prelude to your afterlife! Uwaa, haa, ha!"  
cackled Kefka.  
Rushing past him, Edgar ran through the waiting room and into the throne room. "Begin the operation!" he shouted to a soldier.  
"Yessir!" responded the soldier, who promptly headed to tell the others. Edgar followed him outside.  
  
"Changed your story yet?" Kefka asked. His skin was less pale, and patches of his face were missing paint. A fair complexion beneath reflected the flame's colors well.  
Edgar turned to him. "I guess I have no choice..." he stated.  
Kefka grinned, but ceased as Edgar hopped over the castle wall and onto one of a trio of chocobos beneath. Kefka moved to the side and looked off the edge. "Or maybe I do!" Edgar added arrogantly.  
The chocobos waded through sand to the east wing, as Kefka looked at Edgar's retreat. "Aren't you a good king? Leaving your people   
behind...delightful!" he called.  
Locke and Terra flew over the east wing turret wall and landed upon the remaining chocobos, which did not so much as bow beneath their weights. "Submerge now! Nobody defeats Figaro!!" ordered Edgar.  
As they rode off, the east and west wing slid to meet and connect with the base of the castle. The throne room, also, grew more compact to the base. Sand spouted up all over, and Figaro sank rapidly into the boiling sea of sand. Kefka, surprised, did not even leave the castle. "Get them!" he cried, summoning his two bodyguards.  
  
Their chocobos ran swiftly over the sand dunes, but Magitek units caught up with them nevertheless. Dismounting their dashing avians, Terra, Locke, and Edgar readied themselves for a bloody battle.  
Locke lunged at one mechanized beast, and slashed at its knee tendons. The pilot, unsure as to what to do, ran forward, with Locke holding on for dear life.   
Edgar had made his way behind the two knights, and hoisted up an old-fashioned crossbow, customized with four chambers for arrows. As he pulled the trigger, the arrows flew simultaneously at the two pilots. One of them turned on him, while the other pilot slowed his shaking of Locke.  
Terra, with her blade still sheathed, sent fire energy through her hand and into Edgar's opponent. With a scream, he combusted along with his Magitek armor.  
Locke lost his grip and rolled into the sand. Edgar, looking pale, rushed up to him. "Locke!! Did you see that? She used magic! Terra used M-A-G-I-C!" he spelled out to the dazed Locke.  
Stirred, he opened his mouth as wide as his eyes. "Magic?! I  
thought that didn't exist anymore!" Locke returned.  
"You thought wrong, my friend!" Edgar shot back.  
Terra lowered her gaze to the sand at her feet. Locke, looking at the pilot who was after him, cleaved through the Magitek's knee  
tendons. The pilot looked confused as the unit lurched forward and he  
was sent sprawling in the sand. His cry of pain was muffled beneath his  
own fallen Magitek, which followed in its owner's footsteps.  
Mounting their chocobos, they rushed past Kefka, kicking sand into his face. "Son of a submariner! You'll pay for this!" he cried, rubbing sand out of his eyes.  
  
"Was that a bad man?" asked Terra of the other two.  
"Nope! That was a bad woman! Haha!" Locke jested.  
Edgar, chuckling, answered, "Yes, Terra...a very bad man."  
"Oh! My mentor, Banon, would like to meet you, m'dear," he said to Terra.  
Edgar mulled something over from atop his wingéd steed.  
"Magic...the key to winning this war. No human knows howto use it..." he  
murmured.  
Terra urged her chocobo to slow slightly. "No human..." she voiced.  
"Very sorry, Terra. If the Empire gets ahold of you, the world is done for. You want to learn of your magic, no? Then let us consult with Banon," Edgar corrected.  
  
South approached rapidly, and the chocobos left behind feathers just as rapidly from their pace. Deserts met grass, and a cave loomed. The noon sun pressed on their backs, urging them into the dusky cavern. A lone chocobo knight stood beside the entrance. "You are headed to South Figaro, King Edgar?" he asked, in a statement-rather-than-question sort of way.  
"Indeed. Return to the castle, and tell them that we are away  
safely. Take care on your journey, and bring these fellows along with  
you," Edgar replied, handing the reins of his chocobo to the knight. As  
the chocobo knight left with the three birds, the three entered the cave.  
It seemed to swallow them into a neverending tunnel. After many minutes of hiking, they reached a spring with another tunnel on the opposite side of it. In the center was a turtle that swam in haphazard  
circles, like it were a cockroach that was flipped on its back. Candlelight  
flickered off of the shiny shell. "I really do wonder who the loser is that  
keeps all of these candles lit..." muttered Locke.  
Edgar turned to him. "What do you mean?" he asked curiously.  
Locke pointed at the candles. "Every cave I'm in, the candles are alive and well. They die pretty often, and there's never anyone to relight them. Besides, they're in caves, so it's kinda windy in them. They would never stay lit!" Locke persisted.  
Terra looked over at Locke. "Now that you mention it...that is  
rather odd, Locke," she conjectured. Edgar shook his head and walked  
on.  
  
At the foot of the steps, three horrid crawlies...well, crawled  
towards them. Edgar raised his hand to halt Terra and Locke, and then  
proceeded to left his automatic crossbow. Arrows sail through the air  
and pierce the creatures voraciously, and Edgar puts away the crossbow  
before the last arrow even strikes. "Bow before your king!" taunted  
Edgar as the beasts curled and died.  
"You showoff..." Locke admonished, after picking up a tonic.  
Light was visible up ahead, and the cave became more readily  
traversible. As they exited the cave, they saw grass once more, and a  
slightly darkened sky. The time had advanced to evening by the time  
they arrived in South Figaro.  
  
Terra noticed first the smell. "What...IS that?!" she demanded.  
Edgar laughed at the question. "There is a chocobo stable right  
there. The healing spring water tends to give chocobos diarrhea," said  
Edgar.  
"That's a bit of trivial knowledge, there...hey! Let's check out the relic shop!!" Locke said suddenly, and stepped lifefully into the shop.  
Edgar groaned. "We're not here to go on a shopping spree..."  
Terra and Edgar followed, and found Locke having a conversation with a man. "These Sprint Shoes make me run twice as fast! Lookit me go! Zoooom!" the man said, and ran into a wall, crashing to the floor.  
Locke stood there, stunned. "Some people never lose that kid  
quality in 'em, I guess," he mentioned. "Hey, merchant-man! Give me a  
pair of those thingamajigs."  
The merchant, a little miffed by Locke's attitude and the man's test-drive, handed over a pair of shoes. "That's 1500 gold, sir," the  
merchant said.  
Locke took a step back. "1500!? You're kiddin' me!! You don't have them on sale?!" he demanded.  
The merchant grinned. "They are on sale, sir."  
Locke slammed the counter with his fist. "Whaaaaat!?"  
Edgar placed his hand on Locke's shoulder to calm him down. "I'll buy two more pairs. I'll foot his bill, too, my good fellow," he said to the merchant.  
The merchant's eyes widened. "Your Highness! I-i-it will be 3000 gold for all three pairs, sir," the merchant said meekly.  
Edgar smiled at him. "Thank you. Here is your 3000 gold for the shoes, and some more for a tip," he said, handing over the pile of coins.  
The merchant nodded, and looked warily at Locke. "Try 'em on, everyone," Locke said, "they feel great!"  
As Terra and Edgar put on new shoes, they wondered what to do with their old shoes. Locke, however, put three pairs of old shoes on the counter. "How much for these?" he asked.  
The merchant glared at him. "They're free."  
Locke laughed. "You DO buy, right?"  
The merchant sneered at him. "You have foot-fungus. I can't sell THAT to my patrons."  
Locke's eyes widened as Edgar laughed and Terra made a noise of disgust. "I do not!" he said.  
The merchant shooed him away, and the others followed.  
  
The bar was small, but crowded. Five tables sat a dozen people,  
many of which were dark-looking. Others were floozies who were  
dancing atop or around the tables. Terra was more shocked when she  
saw a young boy looking at the girls. It must be the owner's son, she  
thought.  
By the phonograph at the bar, a black-garbed fellow and his pet dog sat. Locke, always a bundle of energy, insisted on tapping him on the shoulder.  
"Hey, fella! What parts do you come from?" he asked him. There was no response. Edgar yelps and drags Locke away.  
"That's rude! Besides, can't you pick a less dangerous person to start a one-sided dialogue with?" Edgar stated.  
"You tree-hugging reague! Lemme go!" Locke struggled.  
Edgar looks at the shady man. "That is Shadow, a mercenary ninja if ever there was one! That cold bastard'd slit his mother's throat for five gold pieces!" he said.  
Locke eyed the glinting shurikens and sheathed blade at his hip. "Oh...heh, my bad, pal," he apologized to Shadow.  
"Go away," he muttered in a deep, marrow-curdling voice.  
Locke ran to hide behind Edgar as Terra moved to pet the dog. Shadow turned his head to flash his reddish eyes at her. "Leave us...the dog eats strangers."  
"Hey! Cut it out,man! You're creeping me out! Can't we just be  
friends?" Locke insisted.  
Shadow rose from his seat and instantly faced Locke, short sword drawn. Locke blinked, still seeing an afterimage of the ninja. "FUCKING BEAT IT, THIEF-BOY!" he exploded.  
Locke opened his mouth to explode, himself, but thought before he leapt, this time. "Tch. Fine...you get that "thief" for free."  
"Come ON..." Terra nudged Locke, and the three left.  
"That was not very smart, Locke," said Edgar matter-of-factly.  
"Aw, shaddap!" he cried, and walked into the chocobo stables.  
  
"Gree-tings! May I in-te-rest you three in a cho-co-bo ride?" the  
man said in a foreign accent.  
Edgar, after pausing a moment, spoke up. "Three, please," he said.  
"That with be one-hun-dred fif-ty pieces," said the foreigner.  
"Ahh...thanks," said Locke, watching the gold change hands.  
  
The chocobos were as fast as they were several hours ago, despite being different ones. The mountains closed in, and they were enveloped shortly. The only path onward was through the caves of Mount Kolts.  
"Be free, my fast, feathery friends!" Locke said with consanance. Edgar groaned.  
"Will they be able to find their way back?" Terra asked.  
"Don't worry. They'll be safe, because monsters can't catch them, and they remember where their home is. It's kinda like that candle thing," Locke said.   
"Come on, now, Terra. Lead the way, fungus boy," Edgar laughed.  
Locke darted forward to stop Edgar, and yelled at him, "I do NOT have foot fungus!!" 


	3. The True Path

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Chapter Three:  
  
The True Path  
  
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Coarse, deeply jade grass lashed out at the trio, attempting to  
make them hurtle down the craggy cliffs of Mount Kolts. The mountain  
range loomed over them, and mist gathered halfway to the summit.  
Luckily, they wouldn't be heading to the summit.   
"How much longer do we have to go on? I haven't walked this far in a long time..." Terra muttered.  
Locke spoke up. "We just got started, love. Besides, unless we get Magitek units, we're gonna be walkin' an awful lot in this war."  
Edgar fixed his ribbon as he trudged on with tenacity. "Do you  
really believe that our actions will begin a war with the Empire? I find it  
hard to believe that a small resistance faction could do anything other  
than blitzkrieg tactics, if even that. It's also bad sport to rely on Lady  
Terra quite that much," Edgar pondered.  
Locke nodded. "I guess I see where you're going, Highness. It's a little hard to see that a tiny group like us could tear apart a superpower like the Imperials... but just because something is impossible to see doesn't mean that it's impossible."  
Terra thought about their words as she walked. She became  
enveloped in the conversation as much as the darkness of the cavern  
path enveloped the three travelers. The wood creaked and shook under  
their steps, and Edgar's steps thudded loudly on the planks. Locke's  
steps were barely audible, and her own steps were slight clicks from her  
heeled boots. Her feet still hurt.   
She climbed crude, stone steps up to a higher cave exit, and the other two followed her. She heard voices outside. "Wait...I hear  
something. Someone," she paused.  
Locke and Edgar ground to a halt. "Imperial sympathizers. See their uniforms?" Locke said quietly, pointing at the two figures. By the light of the exit, a pair of tall, bulky men stood chatting. They garbed in red gi pants, but were otherwise unhindered by clothing. Their hair,  
unsurpisingly, was pulled back in ponytails. Despite being monks, they  
still had some semblance of style, Terra mused.  
"Come on! They've got their guards down!" Edgar urged, drawing his sabre and rushing forth. Locke drew his dagger and flew towards the brawlers, and Terra belatedly brought up the rear.  
"Maaan, I'm so glad Master Duncan bit the big one. He almost killed me the other day during kata!" said one of the brawlers.  
Edgar, positioning himself carefully behind the other, brought his blade down hard straight down his skull. The talkative brawler's eyes widened as the left half of his companion's skull spun past his feet. He wiggled his toes slightly as the blood drenched his soles. "What's going on!?" he demanded, whirling on the trio. He feigned backwards to avoid Locke's swipe. Springing back at his assailant, the monk threw a reverse punch straight into Locke's solarplexis. Doubling over, Locke gasped for air and relief from the sudden sharp blow. Following up on the attack, the fighter jammed his knee into Locke's forehead, causing him to soar backwards onto his rear. Locke's leg twitched as blood eked from his face.  
Terra put her arms forward and closed her eyes. Chanting an  
incantation without truly knowing the words, she sent a blast of flames  
at the monk, who screamed in agony, swatting at the air as if  
shadowboxing. When the smoke cleared, the charred man stood shakily,  
his clothing blackened and torn. He launched towards her with less  
speed than he had when clobbering Locke, but it was still formidable to  
catch her offguard. Edgar ran towards her, but he was not timely  
enough to make it.   
She drew her knife, and had it prepared to bat at him. Before he could so much as wind up for a one-two, however, he coughed up blood. His eyes were wide with surprise as he fell to one knee. Locke, bleeding profusely from the wound on his head, held his dirk with a sheath fashioned out of brawler. His eye which was not impaired by blood trails had a look of grim intensity to it as he kicked the fighter off of his dagger. "I told you..." Locke paused to cough, "..that I'd protect you."  
Terra dropped her blade and rushed over to the damaged treasure hunter. Locke held up his hand to stop her, and straightened himself out, complaining softly about the pain. He reached into his pocket and pulled the stopper out of a potion vial, drinking the precious lapis liquid. As he pushed back his head to finish off the small vial, the wound on his forehead swiftly closed, and the blood dried and caked his nose and mouth. Throwing down the vial, it shattered into a dozen pieces as he wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and glanced up at the still-surprised Terra and the upset Edgar. Locke glanced sidelong at the regal fellow. "What's wrong?" Locke inquired of him.  
Edgar's eyes widened as his gaze shifted to Terra for a moment, and then back at him. "I shall tell you later. Now..it is not important."  
Locke shrugged, and walked outside, where the clouds and mist covered the daytime sky. There, not even twenty paces to his left, did he see another orifice. Moving on, he found himself again covered in  
darkness. By the light, he could make out a long, turn-laden bridge.  
Pausing on the edge, Terra toed off a rock into the abyss. The trio  
stopped, counting the seconds. Five...ten...fifteen. Apparently, they didn't want to fall off the edge.  
Terra led the way, able to vaguely make out the bridge in the  
shadows, and stepped off of the bridge. Locke followed behind,  
unconcerned with his steps, yet Edgar looked at his feet almost piously.  
The dusky light of day was welcome, and they were not,  
thankfully, starved for light as of yet. Terra trodded on, rounding the  
large stakes for a rickety suspension bridge. Locke poked at the  
algae-dressed stakes, as if he were testing their abilities.   
Terra strode across, taking care not to invest power into her  
steps, for wariness of the bridge's dilapidation. Halfway through, she  
thought she felt something odd. It was not that of physicality, but  
more...psychological. She looked off the bridge to the left and the right,  
but saw nothing. Was it simply her mixed emotions about joining a  
resistance group to challenge the Empire? She stopped a moment in  
thought.  
She lurched forward with a yelp when two entities crashed into her shortly thereafter. Whirling on the figures, she found a red-faced Edgar and a shocked Locke. "Hahah! Try not to stare at Terra's ass so closely, next time, Edgar!" he chuckled.  
Edgar shook a fist at the treasure hunter. "You were looking as well!!" he shouted at him.  
Locke shrugged. "What's your point?" he asked.  
Terra growled as she grabbed them both by the elbow and forced them in front of her. "Stay up there, you two!" she ordered.  
Locke laughed harder. "You want your revenge on us by looking at our asses, now?"  
Terra was about to retort unkindly as she heard a noise. Turning, she noticed three Cirpius birds swooping down at them all. "Looks out!" she cried, ducking. Locke and Edgar dashed off of the bridge.   
"Terra, over here!!" Edgar exclaimed, motioned to her with a hand.  
Terra ran as much as she felt would keep up the bridge, keeping her head bowed low. A Cirpius divebombed her in the back of the head, rendering her unconscious. Locke drew his mythril dagger as he narrowly evaded a swooping avian. Seeing the downed sorceress, he  
rushed towards the Cirpius responsible. "Son of a bitch parrot!!" Locke  
cried, throwing himself at the bird. As the Cirpius readied a set of talons,  
Locke landed on its back, weighing it down to the moist grass. With a  
mighty thrust, he pierced the bird's skull with ease.  
"Time for some cruel death!!" Edgar yelled triumphantly.  
Locke winced. "Nobody enjoys your razor-sharp skill at taunting, my liege," he stated.  
Edgar, ignoring Locke, pulled out a large phonograph, and set it upon the ground. Kicking it, the machine belched horrible tunes and  
melodies. Fast voices came into place, and the Cirpius spun around  
uncontrollably. As they tore each others' flesh apart with screeches and  
squawks, Locke shook his head.  
"At the very least, you make up for it in some area, alike this one," Locke conceded. Rushing over to Terra, he tickled her with a phoenix down feather, and watched mirthfully as she laughed back to life.  
"What...happened?" Terra asked softly.  
"Amnesia again?!" Locke asked suddenly, and then smiled at her when she frowned. "We rid the bridge of the parrot population," Locke said simply.  
Edgar groaned. "They're called Cirpius, Locke. They're very  
territorial, in case you didn't know that," he stated, taking the needle off  
of the record and putting the machine into his pack again.  
"What the hell where you playing?" Locke asked.  
Edgar grinned, and pulled out the recording disc. Across the  
glossy black surface read the nonsensical word "Chumbawamba". Locke  
arched an eyebrow. "While it might not be so bad for us, it wreaks havoc  
on animals," Edgar noted.  
Locke, shaking his head, glanced around. It was so peaceful now that the enemies were gone from sight.   
Rustle. Locke's ears perked up, and he looked around more  
carefully.  
Rustle, rustle. Locke looked above him, where a black figure was standing. As he pointed up at the figure, the man found that he, too, was being watched. He launched himself off of where he stood to a further point on the mountain, where he was no longer visible.  
"Who was that? He really needs to learn how to hide better," Terra said.  
"That...would be a visitor, it seems," Edgar said, with a hesitation on yielding the response.  
"He needs to have less baggy clothing...those pants make noise like crazy," Locke admonished the stranger, and walked on into the next cavern.  
  
After a short jaunt in the dark, the three arrived at a long grassy path. "This could take a while to walk through..." Edgar told Terra.  
"A while, nothing! We can cross this in mere minutes! Here, just jump over this rock like so..." Locke showed off by sailing over a large rock in the path. "Come on!" he called from the other side.  
"I...can't jump that high," Terra muttered.  
"I'll mess up my clothes," Edgar called.  
"Mess up your clothes?! Dammit, Edgar...fine! I'll be here when you guys get here!" Locke fumed.  
  
The light-haired adventurer was indeed there fifteen minutes  
later, his bandanna pulled over his eyes, and his left foot placed on the  
rock which he had leapt over before. "Ready?" He asked them, pulling  
back up his bandanna.   
The band of rebels trudged onwards, through the path.  
Rustle, rustle.  
Locke halted in his tracks. "Show your face, you miserable excuse for a ninja!" demanded Locke.  
The one who was following them previously came into view before them. His long silver hair was tied back, as seemed was customary to most people in the world. His massive form blocked the next cave quite nicely. His baggy gi pants were all that the man wore, for his sinewy tan body shone darkly in the dusky evening sky. He wore a cruel smile as he spoke. "Sabin sent you, right?" he asked, not expecting an answer. He turned his back on the group, and jumped into the cave wall. Springing off of the stone, he ricocheted towards the three with a wide roundhouse kick. The three fell to their knees, looking up at the man.  
"Vargas, where is Sabin?!" Edgar demanded, rising to his feet.   
Vargas laughed loudly. "I was about to ask you the very same  
thing! Seeing that you don't know either, you will die here and now!"  
Vargas declared.  
"One thing to remember in your next life, pal! Take some sneaking lessons, because you couldn't hide if your life depended on it!" taunted Locke.  
  
Vargas bellowed ferociously, and stepped away from the cavern entrance. Two answering roars came from behind him, and then their owners flanked Vargas. A pair of Ipooh bears stood on their hind legs, their dirty claws swinging in midair.  
Terra held her arms out at one of the approaching bears, sending a blaze throughout the beast's coarse fur. Enraged by the flames, the Ipooh slashed at Edgar. With a cry, he slumped to the ground, blood oozing from his cuts.  
Locke responded to the fall by lunging at the Ipooh. Piercing its chest with his blade repeatedly, the bear fell to the grass below with a  
lamentatious cry. The Ipooh's twin swung at Locke, who leapt hastily out  
of the way, dirk in tow.   
Vargas threw an uppercut at Locke, and caught him square in the chin. Tearing from the pain, he backpedaled to avoid further damage for the duration of the blurriness. Terra held up her hands once again, and sent a fire spell on Vargas. He cursed a little, and turned towards her.  
"Thanks, Locke," said Edgar's voice. While Vargas was distracted, Locke had applied a phoenix's down feather on Edgar, whose wounds still oozed a little. Edgar woozily picked up his regal-looking sword and chopped at the rushing Ipooh. With a thud, the bear fell in place with its severed bestial head.  
Vargas looked at all of them, and smiled grimly. "That's IT! Time to die!!" he cried at them, as he assumed a martial arts stance.  
"No! It's your time, Vargas!" came a shout.  
  
Terra glanced over at the interfering stranger. He had golden hair drawn back into a ponytail and spiked backwards in front. His massive physique protruded from his tight sleeveless shirt, and his baggy white gi slacks flowed like plumes of white smoke blowing in the wind. "You've really crossed the line this time!" the man cried again.  
"Sabin?!" said Edgar and Vargas simultaneously.  
"You killed Master Duncan, didn't you?! Why, Vargas? Why did you kill your own father!?" demanded the Sabin, the newcomer.  
"Naive fool! He chose you to be the successor of the dojo! You, over his own son! His ONLY SON!!" screamed Vargas.  
Sabin turned on the high rock he stood on, facing away from the group. His pants fluttered and flapped with the breeze's helpful hands. His eyes were downcast, and his voice came rather quiet in comparison to Vargas' furiful tonality. "No...he chose you, Vargas."  
"Lies! All lies!" retorted Vargas powerfully.  
"Master wanted you as his heir, not me. He knew of your fine  
spirit, old friend!" Sabin reaffirmed, leaping off of the rock he stood  
upon.  
"LIAR!! Your time has come! Taste my Blizzard Fist!" shouted  
Vargas again. His left heel slid back into the dirt, and a small mound  
collected at his foot's base. Twisting back his torso, he spun around with  
his right fist leading. A black wave of energy slowly moved towards  
them, and then flew at them with the subitolike speed. Ice crystals and  
snow thrashed at the four, and they all tried to hold their ground against  
the snowstorm. Edgar lost his footing and tumbled backwards onto the  
grass. Locke, too, lost his footing, and followed Edgar's forced direction.  
Terra finally was flung away from the immediate battleground as well.  
Sabin stood tall as the attack subsided. Ice frosted the grass  
blades, and Sabin's own clothes were a slightly lighter shade of blue. He  
hadn't, however, moved even an inch from his place where he stood  
pre-blizzard.   
"You've grown strong, Sabin. It will be a great pleasure to kill two of my greatest adversaries in such a short span of time!" Vargas cackled.  
Vargas closed the gap between the two martial artists, and threw a roundhouse at Sabin swiftly. Blocking the onslaught with his forearm, Sabin threw a left hook, catching Vargas on the cheek with surprise. As he stumbled away, Sabin lunged with a straightline punch, putting all of his weight into it. Vargas sailed clear over Sabin's attack, kicking him in the back of the head as he did so. Sabin whirled on Vargas and clenched his fists tightly. "You'll never escape your fate, Sabin! Time is growing short for you!" Vargas exclaimed as he scowled at his rival.  
Sabin launched himself at Vargas, planting both of his feet on the large man's chest in an exploder. As they both fell to the ground and  
rhythmatically sprung up to their feet, Sabin took a step away from  
Vargas. "There's no chance at me beating him at this rate...dammit,  
there's no choice left!" Sabin battled with himself.  
Just then, Vargas performed a crescent kick which made contact with Sabin's gut. Wincing in pain, Sabin bared his teeth. His fists flew rapidly, seeming to be a hundred fists at once with unbelievable speed.  
His fists' afterimages confused the wounded trio, and his fists launched outward before they even recoiled. Vargas felt the last blow before the first, but they all hit at the same time. Crashing to the ground, Vargas took in his last breath.  
  
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The three sat up as Sabin walked towards them. "Brother!" Edgar called. Sabin smiled as he hugged his brother.  
Locke leaned towards Terra. "Just between you and me, but I  
think that our king isn't, well, as appreciative of the fairer sex than you  
or me," he whispered to her.   
Terra turned to him. "What do you mean by MY appreciation on the fairer sex?!" she whispered back fiercely.  
Locke winced. "Well, it was worth trying to ask," he spoke aloud.   
A furrowed-browed Terra took her leave of the rambunctious  
youth and approached the two brothers. "Um...aren't you a little bit far  
from your gym?" she asked of Sabin.  
Sabin turned to her, his blue eyes scanning her. "Well....ah, I guess that's a complement. Big brother, who is this?"  
Edgar looked at the malachite-tressed woman and smiled. "This is Terra. Terra, Locke, this is Sabin."  
Locke wiped off his dagger as he leaned against the cave arch. He grinned to himself as he heard his name.   
"We're headed to the Sabil Mountains," announced Edgar.  
"No more mountains, please!" wailed Locke, complete with a sour face.  
Sabin shifted his weight onto his left leg as he crossed his arms dominantly. "Headed to see the Returners again, bro?" came Sabin's deep voice.  
Edgar nodded as he looked back at Locke swiping at air with his knife. "My seclusion is now over. The world's sanity is diminishing. Take a look at Vargas. He was so obsessed with being my rival that he lost his path. He went ahead and killed his own father...my master. Now, what of all these trainees that roam here?! They're nothing better than  
monsters now that they've fallen!" Sabin declared.  
Locke shook his head. "There's not much in terms of these  
'monsters'. Just some renegade parrots and some woolly mammoths  
that REALLY shouldn't exist nowadays," he murmured.  
Terra glanced at the fair-haired treasure hunter for a moment, and then disregarded his observation as she had with his candle discovery.  
Edgar was pacing back and forth, shaking his arms and hands. "Revenge will be our's, then, my sibling! The Empire will pay for what they've done!" he cried.  
Sabin stared at him dumbly. "Bro...what does the Empire have to do with Vargas?"  
Edgar glared at Sabin for a moment before Sabin broke his stare with comment.  
"Well...ah...heheh...how about I tag along? I mean, surely you can find a use for a 'bear' like me!!" confirmed Sabin with crescendoing  
confidence. Emphatically, he flexed his bulging biceps.  
  
Edgar, Terra, and Locke stopped what they were doing. Each one of them glanced at him, and then at each other. They all clearly wanted to say something, but nothing was said at all.  
Sabin took this as a cue to put away his effort. "You don't know  
when to shut up, do you, brother?" Edgar managed.  
Sabin smiled uneasily at the zombielike gazes. "I....think that's a 'yes' to me comin'?" he said shamelessly.  
Locke let out a hearty laugh as Terra held her gaze on Sabin.  
"Yeah, why not? We could use a blitzer, after all!" Locke exclaimed.  
Sabin blinked as he turned to Locke. "I don't like alcohol, though."  
Locke stopped laughing. "Uh...what the hell are you talking about?"  
"Master Duncan would rest easier if I helped bring the peace  
about!" Sabin said simply.  
Edgar covered his face with his right hand. "(Let me do the  
talking, Sabin)".  
Edgar's minor looked down at him. "What was that, bro? I didn't hear ya!" Sabin said, straining to listen to him.  
Locke twitched as he listened to Sabin make himself more and  
more well-known. "Let's get going! I can't take this anymore! It's like it's  
twenty questions, but he doesn't even know how to count that high!" he  
cried.  
Sabin frowned at him. "Hey, I'm not stupid! I can too count that high! One...two....three...uh....four..." he began.  
Terra lurched forward through the cave, past Locke. Edgar and Locke followed suit after her. "....seven....eight....ni...nine? Yeah, that was it...ten....huh?" Sabin looked around. "Wait up for me, you guys!!" he cried, running heavily after the travelers.  
  
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Through the valley, the clouds parted to expound upon the  
passing time. The flaming sunset warred with the fog and clouds of Mt.  
Kolts, and the reddish hue manifested itself on the tallgrass fields. Locke led the group, stepping lightly and merrily, as the green blades barely bent under his weight. Terra was taken aback by the scenery, and marveled at each autumn tree. Edgar took it upon himself to watch out for Sabin, who was running all over the paths, tearing flowers  
roots-and-all out of the earth, and picking the petals off of the layered  
plants.  
She hadn't even noticed that Locke was beside her, and she leapt at his murmured tone. "So, upset that this dream hunk Sabin turned out to be missing a couple of things upstairs?"   
Terra hit him in the arm. "I never thought Sabin was handsome!"  
Locke pointed at the lollygagging fighter behind Edgar. "He looks damn odd with those flowers, that's for sure."  
Terra nodded, without even looking back. "Sure does," she  
responded.  
Locke shook his head. "Did I do something to upset ya, Terra?" he asked, taking on a concerned tone.  
Terra looked him straight in the azure eyes. "You're just a  
womanizer. Why should I trust you for a second?" she demanded of him.  
Locke sighed. "You really think so? Nahh. I just have a soft spot for lovely ladies. Especially soft ones," he punned.  
Terra groaned and spurred herself on. "I had heard Edgar was the same way. He doesn't seem to be too interested, though," she said.  
Locke looked her over keenly. "You like Edgar then?!" he inquired.  
Terra scoffed as she sped past him towards the Sabil Mountain Range ahead.   
"Man...that can't be good. She has the hots for the king!" Locke  
spoke to himself.  
"Spit the flower out! You'll get sick!!" came Edgar's voice behind him.  
Locke shook his head. "Girls these days have no taste."  
  
  
  
  
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	4. Hope, Pandora's Remnant

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Chapter Four:  
  
Hope, Pandora's Remnant  
  
  
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The outside of the headquarters looked reminiscent of the  
Sabil mountain range pass. However, no guards stood by the gates of the  
sparsely vegetated cliffside alcove. The cavern entrance was rather  
obvious, and any fool walking along the mountain bases could have  
found it were they blind and unlucky. Terra turned back to speak with  
Locke. "Isn't this cave a bit obvious?" she asked him.  
Locke shifted his weight for a moment. "Well, Banon's too cheap to hide it. He figured, 'There's a door here already! Why waste time trying to find a secluded one?'" Locke quoted thoughtfully.  
Terra frowned. "What kind of attitude is that for a resistance  
member?!"  
Locke shrugged. "It sounded like a plausible philosophy to me at the time," he admitted. Terra turned to see Sabin nodding his head  
wholeheartedly along with Locke. Edgar stood there simply watching  
the oaf being gullible.  
"King Edgar!" a voice called from the cave, each syllable gaining dynamics.  
The four turned to the aperture and saw the speaker Returner, complete with goggles strapped on his head and the brown Returner livery. "Sir Banon awaits you, Your Highness," the man said as he bowed slightly. He unbent himself and whirled back to the headquarters entryway, leading the group into the base.  
  
Many crates were set up in a way that would hardly produce any good were a war to start out. They cluttered the entry room, and lashed out at Terra's knees. What foolish deliveryman would place boxes in haphazard ways such as this?  
The stone floor was well-worn, and Terra's heeled boots clicked on it with a slightly duller sound than that of the palace of Figaro. The stone led its way down the short flight of steps and past burning lanterns, blazing with an oily abundance. This cavern was remarkably well-furnished, and polished wood and steel glinted in the steady luminesence. The light shimmered on the large, long, many-seated table with seats for possibly twenty.   
Terra hoped that this resistance movement was not so brash and arrogant that they planned on taking out the Empire-- nay, the world with a mere twenty-some members. Perhaps this Banon was indeed simply too lazy and cheap to buy more furniture for the press  
conferences and meetings that these ground-dwellers thrived upon.   
How could it be that the Returner sympathizers alone  
outnumbered the shoddily-made maple seats at this table a thousandfold? What could she possibly get accomplished with her life if  
she followed these few and these proud soldiers-in-training to her very  
demise at the hands of Kefka and Emperor Gestahl? Terra stood there,  
pondering over the table for a moment.  
"It's a candle thought, Terra. Just a candle thought," Locke spoke to her assuredly. "Besides, you didn't really think that the Returners would have the entire staff living at HQ, didya?"  
The blonde youth moved quickly to catch up with Sabin, Edgar, and their guide, and Terra moved swiftly to catch up with Locke as well.  
  
Banon's room was quite roomy for a natural cavern. The  
numerous bookshelves in the corners were stacked horrendously, with  
tomes open halfway and pages torn out. She could see a copy of 'How to  
be a Hermit' and a book by the title of 'Cast Away'. What did this entail?  
All was revealed to her once Banon appeared from behind the  
shelf. His hair stuck up as if he did not catch on to the invention of the  
comb nine hundred years ago, and it was long, gnarled, and in the  
process of shifting color in between light brown and grey. His robes  
were aged, but some of the previous vibrance of the red with gold  
trimming managed to come through. His eyes were calm, despite his  
lion's mane.   
"Banon! We brought Terra to meet you!" Edgar announced.  
Banon stepped uneasily towards her, his eyes moving over her face and garb curiously. "This is the girl who can talk to the Espers?!" he croaked with a voice of grating gravel against mythril blades.  
"...Espers?" Terra squeaked, trying not to flinch at the sound of the rebel leader's hoarse voice.  
Locke put his hand on her shoulder as he entered the  
conversation. "Yep! The Empire controlled her for a while. That's why  
she was wreakin' havoc over our side of the battlefield," he informed the  
hermit lookalike.  
"Terra was manipulated into fighting with a Slave Crown. I  
thought that the Empire had stopped the use of those blasted devices  
once they were deemed unsafe..." Edgar stated.  
Locke smirked, his hand kneading Terra's shoulder. "Those Slave Crowns are porn tools waiting to be discovered..." he said thoughtfully.  
Terra stomped on his foot as Sabin guffawed idiotically. Banon  
simply glared at Locke for a moment.  
"She has amnesia, Banon," Edgar finished.  
Terra's eyes turned downcast in thought and confusion. What  
could she do? How could she truly make a decision that counted upon  
her as the grain of rice which would tip the scale?  
Banon paced slowly as he began to speak. "Perhaps...you've heard this story...Terra, was it?" he paused to see Terra nodding slowly, and continued his oration. "Once, when people were still pure beings, there was a box which they were told never to open. They had everything they could ever desire, but they were told to never, ever open that box. Somebody, however, did eventually open it. Once the chest was undone, all of the Evils of the world were unleashed: envy, greed, pride, violence, and control. All that remained within was a single ray of light...Hope..."  
Terra stood silently as she thought about Banon's tale. "We must now confront those Evils...and you, Terra, are that last ray of Hope," Banon concluded.   
"Hear, hear!" cheered Sabin, before getting an elbow from his  
elder brother.  
Banon teetered and fell to his knees with a great creak and crash. His robes fluttered in the wind as the rebel dropped. "Banon!" Locke cried, rushing forward to pick him up. "You need some sleep, old man. You went and overdid it with that ol' wives' tale nonsense," Locke  
muttered.   
"Yes...let me rest for a while. All of you should...too..." Banon  
drifted off as he went limp in Locke's arms. Locke hoisted him up and  
slung him over his left shoulder, trying not to bump Banon's head on  
anything as he put him to sleep.   
  
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Her eyes opened slowly, as the drowsiness washed away from her sight. The lanterns flickered violently in her room, and she saw a large shadow cast above her bed. The youthful Locke was standing in her room, tending to the lantern's oiling. Terra kicked off the coarse sheets and rose from bed hastily. "Locke...?" she checked, wondering if the brash treasure hunter would really be there tending to chores.  
His voice came softly, and it was enough to send chills down her spine: "Somebody...important to me...was jailed by the Empire a long time ago. I....I've hated them ever since. After she was jailed, they had  
her...executed..." Locke stopped for a moment, his voice catching a little.  
His breathing became more erratic, and the lamplight danced to his life's wind. "I joined the Returners--we were just a small group then-- once I saw that the Empire was nothing more than a crew of scumbags and beasts."  
Terra took a step towards Locke, and then ceased. "I have no  
'significant other' in my life..." she stated simply.  
Locke whirled on her, his eyes wide with a torturous umber.  
"That's not true! There are people who are counting on you! You're  
really important to everyone's future, Terra!" he assured her.  
Terra looked him in the eyes, studying how his inner duel with his memories was spun into a yarn which was revealed through his soily orbs. "Locke..."  
He turned away from her again, fiddling with the lantern. "I won't tell you to join, Terra... but I hope that you will."  
  
  
Sabin squirmed in his seat, picnicking on green cherries which the shopkeep had given him. The tangy, sharp flavor oozed through his teeth as he waited patiently for his beryl-tressed fellow traveler. It may not have been often that something was on his mind, but he really needed to speak said mind right that moment. He slumped down into the cheap wooden chair, rolling excess cherries down the smallish tabletop.  
The sound of an opening door jolted Sabin to his senses as he saw the teenaged sorceress leave her room. "Terra! Over here!" he yelled, waving a hand filled with a fistful of fruit.   
"Sabin? What are you doing?" she asked of him, Sabin's green  
moustache stretching to each cheek. Her eyebrow arched as he  
scratched his head in thought.  
"Don't eat the cherries. They're really sour," he said triumphantly.  
Terra's eye twitched as she heard this. Was she really joining a group of people with Sabin as one of their key soldiers? She swallowed  
hard.  
"Oh, that wasn't the important part...I wanted to tell you to trust my brother as much as ya can. He's always been fair with me, after all. I mean, lookit how well I turned out!" Sabin claimed, laughing  
wholeheartedly.  
Terra blinked at him for a moment, and was going to say  
something about Sabin's intellectual state, but instead decided to  
consider this as a moment of glory in Sabin's simple mind. She nodded to him, leaving the meeting room and leaving the Mount Sabil-esque base.  
Sabin smiled to himself as he wolfed down more cherries. She  
would be sure to join with the Returners, he thought. He could sense it.  
With that, he laughed to himself once again.  
  
  
Banon was perched on a boulder, looking out into the valley. He stood guard over the headquarters with a renewed strength, it seemed. "Have you made up your mind, Terra? Will you be our last Ray of Hope?" he called to her, although she had yet to make herself known to him as of yet.   
Terra looked into the valley. The morning sun rose woozily, its  
eerie blue infecting the night sky and killing the darkness. She saw the  
sun, the hope, replacing the night, the Evils of the world which were  
once unleashed. Was it a sign? An omen? Probably not.  
  
But she had to be sure...didn't she?  
  
"Yes...I will join with your ragtag group of rebel misfits, Sir  
Banon," she said coldly.  
Banon was taken aback as to whether he should frown or grin. "We're not ragtag...we're rebels. There's a HUGE difference!" he said, with a youthful vigor that resembled Locke's own. "But...I thank you. I really do," he concluded.  
"But...I'm scared..." she said to him meekly.  
He laughed. "Fear not! We're all here with you!" Banon exclaimed as he sprung off of the rock.  
"Help! Master Banon!!" came a voice followed tightly by a  
brown-clad Returner.   
Banon's glance became serious. "What is it?!"   
The Returner gestured to the interior of the base. "Sir Sabin is  
choking on some food! He raided the supplier's stock and ate all of our  
green cherries!" he cried.  
Banon shook his head. "I guess I don't need to call everyone out to the meeting table, then...everyone's caught up in that big oaf's  
shenanigans," he murmured, stepping quickly into the headquarters to  
aid the cherry-munching martial artist.  
  
  
"Now that Sabin has depleted all of our cherry stock, we will be quite prepared for shopping come this Sunday. We will need all of the  
supplies possible to attack the outpost nearby Narshe. Locke, you will be  
in charge of that," Banon began. Locke nodded as he leaned back  
casually in his chair.  
"Ahem. Let us begin taking care of the task at hand," he cleared his throat noisily. "The Empire has Magitek on their side. How do you suppose that they created them?"  
Everyone fidgeted as they came up with suitable answers.  
"They're using the sorcery mahjongg whatchamacallit!" Sabin chimed in.  
The fidgeting replaced the groans before Locke spoke up. "The  
Imperials are having their best scholars study the Espers and their  
powers," Locke declared.  
Edgar shifted in his seat, leaning closer to the youth. "All of the Narshe trouble was over that Esper, as well," the king spoke fluently.  
"Is there a connection?" Terra asked, more to herself than to the others.   
Banon's features grew grim as he prepared the reply. "I only know of...the War of the Magi..."  
Everyone stood from their seats in shock. The Magic War?!  
Impossible! What could they do about the War that destroyed all of  
Technology?  
Locke's eyebrows quivered. "Sit down, you retards! It was obvious from the get-go that this was connected to the Magi War! Why are you so surprised?" he barked at them. Terra nodded in agreement.  
"But...is this a recurring event? Will it happen all over again?"  
Edgar asked, his armored body quaking.  
Banon, who had retained some of Locke's own composure over the past riot, opened his mouth to speak again. "A tale says that humans and machines gained dead Espers' powers, long ago...If we have Terra to speak with that Esper, it may wake up. Sure, the whole idea is foolish, but it must be attempted nevertheless," Banon orated.  
Locke stared at his elder. "That didn't quite have the 'oomph' that your ol' Adam and Eve story did earlier, old man," he muttered.  
Banon frowned. "That was the tale of Pandora's Box, young one. You should not mock the wisdom which I can pass to you," he returned.  
Terra stood silent, one of Locke's signature arguements passing out one ear and out of the other. "Terra..." Edgar said, holding out his hand towards her.  
She smiled. "I'll do it!" she exclaimed with flair.  
Sabin, who had been fiddling with some green cherry pits, looked up at her with a worried look. "You sound like you're enjoyin' this," he called. Terra opened her mouth to talk, but a loud cry from outside startled them all.   
A Returner covered in a bloodied garb stumbled down the stairs and tumbled to the stone. "They....found us....Ban...on...in  
South...Fig...aro..." the choked cries came from the dying man. Banon's  
eyes widened.   
"Damn, they found us! Locke, head into South Figaro. Slow those Imperial derelicts down!" Banon ordered.  
Locke smirked impishly. "Terra, don't worry; Your knight in  
shining armor will come back to your aid in no time!" he laughed.  
"You take it easy on yourself, Locke," Terra said with a smile.   
Edgar nodded as he crossed his arms across his breastplate. "Good luck, Locke! Give them hell!"  
Locke smoothed back his fair blond hair as he turned to leave out the front gates.  
  
"Over here! We'll take this raft and exit on the Lete River! We'll be in Narshe before too long," Banon said bravely.  
Terra pondered a moment. Lete? The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it...  
"Let's get moving. You're in danger here," Edgar stated to Terra, as he ran through the stone passageway. The sound of a dull,  
thunderous roaring became more and more apparent.   
  
The water was frothing furiously, and shoved angrily at the  
raft-riding infidels. The whitecaps licked at the strong wood and its  
tethers, as they shoved off down the long stream. The currents whisked  
them away instantly, and they progressed with the speed of a chocobo  
downstream. The raft jerked with the slight debris that it collided with,  
and it jolted violently more often after the river changed directions. Two  
sea monsters leapt onboard, eager for food other than meager salmon.   
The nautilus and exocite made it their business to lash at Sabin alone. The cuts and bitemarks appeared without any extra help, and Sabin was left clutching his wound. Terra closed her eyes as her arms raised, palms forward and quavering. A burst of flames engulfed the aquatic exocite as it fell from the boat in ashes.  
Banon waved his staff in the air, crying nonsensical words as a wind blew towards the refugee party. Sabin's cuts vanished as he stood  
tall, securing his claws. He charged across the raft and dug into the  
nautilus with both claws. With a surge of strength, he pulled the shell  
apart and shredded the shell-dweller in a single attempt.  
  
They all nearly fell as the river twisted, leading them in varying directions. They may have been going downstream, but there was something almost mystical about the currents on the Lete River. Water poured against rocks with a vengeance. As the horizon became nearer and clearer, Terra realized with fear why the name Lete rang an  
amnesiac's bell.  
  
The waterfall before them was enough to crush them all.  
  
"Ho! The waterfall's here already! Everyone, row to the left!!"  
Banon Screamed above the raging growls of the falls. They hoisted a pair of oars and did their best to push off of the rocks. The falls were coming more and more ominous as they drew ever-so-close to the four. The thunder rolled just to their right as the raft slowly drifted down the left side of the falls, to a gentler tributary. The mist from the falls soaked  
them, but they were luckily in one piece.  
"Hey...why aren't we moving?" Sabin asked. He paddled with his hands and claws to try and move the raft, but to no avail.   
"Uh....guys..." Terra said quietly, pointing behind them. As they turned, a gigantic purple octopus grinned toothily at them all.   
"Uwee hee hee! Game over! Don't play with the octopus, folks!  
Ultros is HUNGRY, now!!" the beast gargled, its yellow eyes turning to  
see them all.  
"This...is not good," managed Banon.  
Edgar hauled out a gas mask and an insecticide canister, complete with nozzle. Spraying the manylegged fiend, he seemed to gag a little before lashing at Terra. "Delicious morsel! Let me get my bib!" came Ultros' bubbling voice.  
Terra spread out her arms and whispered fiercely. A ball of her signature fire shot forth, singeing his slick body. In retaliation, four of Ultros' tentacles whiped the entire party. Terra and Edgar fell to the  
wood beneath their feet.  
"Brother! Hold on!" Sabin cried, reaching into his pocket and  
tossing phoenix down feathers on his sibling and the magess.  
Edgar, grasping his cutlass's hilt, pulled it forth with bravado and cut through one of Ultros' tentacles. The top of it flew from the octopus and landed in the water. Sabin pulled back his right hand before  
pummeling the sea monster with his knuckles swiftly nd efficiently. He  
jumped back as Ultros reeled with the blows.  
"Ugh! I HATE muscleheads!!" the fiend shouted, frothing at the  
mouth. One of his tentacles connected with Sabin soundly, and withdrew. Sabin stood unfazed and mirthful.  
"You could make a good sparring partner, eight-legs!" the blitzer conceded. Ultros' bulging eyes seemed to pop.  
"Eight-legs?! You insolent little...!" the octopus began.  
Terra positioned herself for for a healing spell as a whispering  
breeze swept over them as if Banon had aided them. They stood their  
ground, weapons drawn and prepared.   
"Dinnertime!!" Ultros declared, waving a tentacle in the air  
ferociously, as he thrashed Banon with raw anger.   
"Banon!!" exclaimed Edgar as he swiped at an evasive tentacle.  
Banon dragged himself up and used both hands to slam his wooden staff against Ultros. The oversized stick broke and splintered into Ultros' topaz eyes. His gargling scream set them all aback for a moment.  
"That's all, friends!" the seven-legged wonder called as he sunk into the water.   
"We beat his ass, for sure," Sabin stated simply, flexing his biceps.  
"I wouldn't be so sure..." Edgar said in singsong.  
Terra felt a tug at her leg. Looking down, a purple tendril wrapped around her ankle. "Eeek! My leg!!" she cried.  
Sabin pulled her away from the edge as the tentacle slipped away. "It's gone now. Stay back, everyone! I'm gonna blitz 'im!" he yelled,  
securing his claws again.  
"Wait, brother!" Edgar cried as Sabin flung himself into the water. The raft shook a little, but otherwise remained stationary. Sabin leapt out of the water for a moment, and crashed back underneath. "Hmm...he always was a tad zealous for his own good," Edgar concluded  
thoughtfully.  
"Right, he'll be up soon," Banon added.  
Sabin was thrown out of the water at an acute angle and flopped face-first into the water, bobbing about the surface.  
"Sabin!!" the three of them cried in unison, as Sabin floated to the east, and the raft began to drift away from the fallen brawler.  
Ultros was nowhere to be seen, and the roar of the falls lost  
dynamics as they increased, as well, in range.  
  
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End file.
